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Several days after the other staff members pulled him out of the pond, her uncle started to make a cabinet. It was actually more of a wall unit. ‘See,’ her mother told her father, who was the uncle’s brother. ‘See. That’s how you do it. You do things. You get on and do them.’ He spent weeks on it, weeks of leave, as the hotel management had told him to come back when he was ‘feeling better’. Sawing, drilling, screwing, sanding, painting; sitting on a chair and staring at what he’d done so far. When he finished, he had a slight relapse. ‘I wouldn’t have put it past him to take the whole thing apart again,’ her mother said. ‘But he didn’t.’